


You've Found Yourself a Friend That Knows You Well

by submergedmemory



Series: Love Is Like Music [3]
Category: Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Asexual Glenn Close (Dungeons and Daddies), Asian Character(s), Backstory, Canonical Character Death, Demisexual Glenn Close (Dungeons and Daddies), Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Pre-Canon, ambiguously Asian Glenn Close
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24450181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/submergedmemory/pseuds/submergedmemory
Summary: But no matter what you doYou’ll always feel as though you tripped and fell—Glenn's started seeing somebody again. Nick doesn't like it. (Neither does Glenn.)
Relationships: Glenn Close and Nicholas Close, Glenn Close and Nick Close
Series: Love Is Like Music [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708477
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	You've Found Yourself a Friend That Knows You Well

“Why’s your ring on your other hand?” Nick asks one sleepy Sunday morning, as he watches his father sauteing onions in the frying pan. The black onyx ring sits on its usual place on Glenn’s middle finger, but right next to it on his father’s ring finger – his father’s _right_ ring finger – is his rose-gold wedding band.

Glenn is silent for a long time, just continues the slow, methodical movements of caramelizing the onions, transferring them into the buttered baguette before cracking four eggs into the still hot pan. He watches the eggs and the crackling, spluttering oil so intently, Nick almost thinks that Glenn must still be high as a kite, or hungover as fucking shit from last night.

But no – Glenn perfectly precisely tips the eggs, yolks still runny, out onto the baguette and hands off the plate to Nick, a grin on his lips and a smile in his perfectly alert eyes.

Glenn rummages around the pantry for the bottle of Maggi and sets it down by Nick’s plate. “Figured it was time for a change,” he says finally, and Glenn’s still smiling, but Nick doesn’t miss the way Glenn’s hand hesitates, ever-so-slightly, as he ruffles Nick’s hair.

-

It hadn’t started with the ring. It was the necklace that clued Nick in first. Or rather, the absence of the necklace.

Seeing his father going on dates wasn’t _unusual_ , per se, but they were uncommon enough that the Close boys liked to make a big production of it – choosing what clothes to wear, what hair product to use, which pair of glasses to accessorize with, what instagram filter to utilize for a selfie – the whole nine yards.

They both knew a flame would never last more than one or two dates before getting extinguished – if the ring on Glenn’s left hand didn’t scare them off, the ring on his right hand usually finished the job, or vice versa, and in any case, Glenn never put much effort into fanning the flames anyway – so helping his father get primped and prettied up for a night out on town had always felt like a safe bonding activity.

So it had been somewhat of a surprise when Glenn had offhandedly mentioned that his fifth date in as many weeks – a rarity in and of itself – was with a repeat offender. “I feel like there might be something there,” he had said, and Nick had said nothing, just hummed thoughtfully and handed Glenn his jade necklace, the necklace that Glenn had always worn for as long as Nick can remember, and Glenn had hesitated.

“Not really vibing with that one tonight, kiddo,” Glenn had said, and if Nick had thought he had sounded reluctant just saying the words, Nick could for sure see the reticence in his face as he slowly, gently, carefully placed the necklace into the black lacquered jewelry box.

Nick had said nothing about that – just narrowed his eyes before picking up a pair of red framed prescription cat-eyes and handing those to Glenn instead. “What about these?”

–

Nick’s still awake by the time Glenn gets home from his date, so he figures it’s as good a time as any to spy on Glenn and his paramour from his bedroom window.

Nick can’t actually hear what they’re saying, but he can see them well enough. The woman – his date, presumably – looks cute – not surprising, knowing Glenn and the type of people he liked to surround himself with – but seems stressed out about something – angry, even. And from what he can tell, Glenn looks… not happy.

Oh, Glenn hides it well – he’s had time to practice, and anyway, in his line of work, he kind of has to if he wants to make money – but Glenn is his dad, and there’s nobody around other than Nick to learn and memorize all his tics and his tells.

The woman continues to talk, looking more and more heated with every word, before Glenn just shrugs good-naturedly. He says something and winks, which startles a laugh out of the woman, and Glenn laughs, too, all the tension seeming to drain out of the conversation. From the woman, at least. Nick frowns.

The laughter peters out eventually, and when Glenn goes in for a hug, the woman instead leans in for a full-on kiss, and Nick looks away, embarrassed and mortified for a reason he can’t identify. When he finally looks back, the woman is holding Glenn’s right hand and looking at him with a coy but expectant look, before she gives him one final peck on the lips, waves goodbye, and climbs into her Uber.

His dad stands there for a few minutes more, watching the cab drive away, his hand reaching up to his neck to grasp at something that’s no longer there, before remembering himself and walking into the apartment, and Nick feels his frown deepen into a scowl.

–

“You’re seeing that woman again tonight,” Nick says, several weeks later, as he watches Glenn tune his guitar on a dreary Saturday afternoon.

Glenn is silent, but he hesitates, just for a moment, before he continues the slow, methodical task of turning the tuning pegs and plucking the strings, tightening then loosening then retightening just so, until something resembling order sounds when Glenn strums the strings.

He plays a faintly familiar piece, recognizable in the same way seeing a beloved but long forgotten relative after years of absence, romantic and dreamy and pensive and sad, and Nick almost feels bad for even saying anything.

“I feel like there might be something there,” Glenn says eventually, repeating that old line, and Nick just looks away, scowling.

“Nicky,” his dad says, and Nick turns to look at his father again, and Glenn isn’t actually looking at him, but Nick can see the clench in his jaw, the grip of his right hand (the _rings_ on his right hand) that tenses, then relaxes on the neck of his guitar. Glenn’s wearing the glasses with the clear lenses for once, and his eyes, not really brown, not actually hazel, are boring into the distance with a seriousness that makes Nick want to squirm, even without having that intense stare leveled at him.

“You say the word, and all of it ends. It’s been just us for a long time, Nicky. I’m…” Glenn cuts himself off. Reaches his hand to his neck to grasp at something that’s no longer there, stops short. “You just say the word.” Glenn repeats, and now Nick actually _does_ feel bad for saying anything.

So Nick shrugs easily and says, “I’m good if you’re good,” after a long moment of uncomfortable silence, because if his dad can lie about being happy, then he certainly can too, and Nick hides it well, but Glenn is his dad, and there’s nobody around other than Glenn to learn and memorize all his tics and his tells.

Glenn doesn’t call him out on it, though - just stares at Nick out of the corner of his eye for a long, agonizing moment, before turning his attention back to his guitar. “I always am,” he says cheerfully, as he resumes playing the same familiar, melancholic tune. Nick turns and leaves the room.

-

Nick’s still awake by the time Glenn noisily gets home from his date in the small hours of the morning, which means Nick’s still awake to find his father sprawled out beside the altar at the end of the hallway.

Seeing his father coming home so late in a drunken, high stupor isn’t _rare_ , per se, but it’s uncommon enough that Nick always feels a stab of fear and worry in his gut every time he sees his father barely able to make it inside the door.

Glenn isn’t the biggest guy in the world, and Nick is very quickly catching up with him in terms of height, but that doesn’t mean Nick’s dumb enough to think he’s strong enough to drag the both of them to the couch in the living room, never mind the bedroom, so Nick just grabs a throw pillow and the afghan from the love seat and sets about rearranging his father on the ground so that he won’t wake up with a sore back and a crick in his neck. Not a debilitating one, anyway.

Glenn reeks of cigarette smoke and weed and booze, but underneath all that is the faint, almost imperceptible scent of incense, and Nick glances up at the altar to see a stick of incense in the urn, a thin wisp of smoke still wafting faintly from the burnt end.

Nick’s eyes roam over the little altar on its perch in the hallway, the clementines sitting on the plate, the urn filled with the burnt out nubs of incense, the box of said incense haphazardly ripped open, the candid, slightly blurry photo of a person with a somber face but kind eyes, taped carefully to the back of the altar.

The rose gold wedding band and black onyx ring resting underneath the photo.

Nick clenches his jaw and feels his hands tighten into fists. Nick’s not one to wish ill on the people he dislikes, but seeing his dad’s rings - _both of them!_ \- laying unwillingly abandoned on the altar and the frown on his father’s face even as he sleeps has Nick angrier than he’s ever felt, _ever_ , in his life, because _what the actual fuck._

But no. One-thirty, almost two in the morning isn’t the time to do anything but sleep or contemplate the cracks in the ceiling. Slowly, Nick unclenches his fists and relaxes the muscles in his jaw. He exhales, sharp and loud, spares a single concerned glance at his dad and retreats back to his bedroom - though not before lighting a stick of incense and offering a prayer himself.

-

Glenn’s already up by the time Nick makes his way to the kitchen, cracking four eggs in a pan to scramble, and if it weren’t for the dark circles under Glenn’s eyes - and if Nick hadn’t seen his father’s wreck of an unconscious body just eight hours previously - Nick would've thought the both of them had had peaceful, restful slumbers. As it is, there are two glasses of black coffee with a generous layer of condensed milk at the bottom sitting on the counter, and Nick grabs one of them for himself gratefully.

Glenn smiles and nods his head towards the cutting board where four tomatoes and the cleaver rest. “Morning, kiddo. Give me a hand?”

Nick nods. He grabs the chopper and slowly, carefully begins to cut the tomatoes into wedges, groans in dismay when tomato juice squirts onto his shirt and pulp drips onto his hands, and Glenn laughs, setting aside the eggs and tossing the mangled tomatoes into the still hot pan along with a spoonful of bouillon powder. Nick rolls his eyes, wiping the rest of the tomato off with the dishrag while Glenn continues cooking, dumping the scrambled eggs back into the pan with the tomatoes.

“You good, Nicholas?” Glenn asks eventually, turning off the flame on the stove. He opens the cabinet and retrieves two bowls, hands them off to Nick to fill with rice. “You’re kind of quiet this morning.”

Nick says nothing, just purses his lips and hums thoughtfully as he opens the rice cooker and shovels rice into the bowls, hands them back to his father to spoon the tomatoes and the eggs over it. Glenn rummages around the pantry for the bottle of Maggi and sets it down by Nick’s bowl.

“Nick,” his father says, and when Nick turns to look at his dad, Glenn is looking at him, and Nick can see the smile on his face that doesn’t match the concerned look in his dad’s eyes, eyes that are a color that’s hard to describe and makes Nick want to look away, so he does, only to lock onto his dad’s hands resting casually on the counter, the right unadorned and free of any jewelry, the left much the same except for a faint tan line on the ring finger, and Nick clenches his fists, and sighs, polishing off the last of his coffee.

“Dad, listen…”

-

It’s barely dusk by the time Glenn gets home from his date, so of course Nick figures it’s as good a time as any to spy on Glenn and his now ex-paramour from his bedroom window.

Nick still can’t actually hear what they’re saying, but he can see them well enough, and the woman is definitely angry, and Glenn looks… not _happy_ , per se, but definitely not as torn up about whatever’s happening right now. Nick can tell.

The woman continues to talk, looking more and more heated with every word, before Glenn just puts up his hand and shakes his head. He says something and shrugs, and the woman steps back as if struck, mouth agape in shock.

Glenn just shrugs again. He points out the quickly approaching Uber and pats the woman comfortingly on the shoulder before walking into the apartment, leaving the woman to fume quietly to herself before climbing into her cab and getting driven away from the apartment and their lives.

Nick sticks around for a few minutes more, watching the car drive away before closing the window, and by the time Nick walks out into the living room, Glenn’s retrieving his rings from the altar. He stares at them for a minute, an expression on his face that Nick can’t really describe, before he casually replaces the black ring onto his right hand, and carefully slides the rose gold band onto his left. He lifts his head and smiles when he sees Nick.

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?” Glenn says, ruffling Nick’s hair, the smile on his lips almost but not quite reaching his eyes.

And Nick smiles back, not quite happy, per se, but not terribly torn up about the whole affair, either.

**Author's Note:**

> The altar is for your parents and your grandparents usually, but would Glenn care or even fucking know? Probably not. His parents and grandparents are of dubious quality, anyway.


End file.
